Been busy burning a lot of compilations for friends and me lately. Road trip discs for folks
going far. I'm really liking a little bit of me in their carspace in the guise of Joao Gilberto
or Phat and Smalls. And on to Arizona we go. Or Lubbock.

And then there's the Super 70's stuff. To be sure, 6 volumes worth so far, and lotsa songs
still in my head to find and follow. I've been stuck on Poco a little lately. Actually, as I
write this, Crazy Love's been on loop for about 45 minutes. What is it's so comforting about these
soft and sappy songs? They're like a fiber of my being; as much as any relationship or an old sweater.
They'll make you moan, they'll make you groan, they'll make you want to phone an old buddy and
reminisce about that Cat Stevens show in Chicago right before he checked out. Or the Ambrosia/Little
River Band/10cc thing with your first love. Perfect.

Am I going to feel that sentimental about Belle and Sebastian in 20 years? Hold it. I guess I
already do. Bad example. But you know what I mean. Or do you?

You're probably thinking I'm regessing, but I digress. When Times offer little solace, often
the past, those simpler days, are reminders of what is good and lasting.